


Four Seasons

by orphan_account



Series: King Hans and Queen Anna 'Verse [1]
Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: F/M, Kid Fic, Pregnancy, oh fuck me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-30
Updated: 2013-12-30
Packaged: 2018-01-06 16:48:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1109199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Anna,” he murmurs. “What’s wrong?”<br/>	She smiles weakly. “Nothing. I just…” She takes a deep breath. She speaks robotically, slowly. “I am with child.”</p>
<p>(AU wherein Elsa did not trigger an eternal winter when she left, Anna was unable to retrieve her, and Hans and Anna married as King and Queen of Arendelle.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four Seasons

                In the fall, they circle through the leaves, her arm tucked into his, her smile bright as the red sun settling over the fjord. The emerald on her finger glitters like a wink of God, and he brings her slight hand to his lips, his kiss buzzing with the satisfaction of a newly-crowned King. His Queen laughs and cups his chin; she brings his lips to hers, soft then hungry, her arms slung around his shoulders. They kiss in the garden, seconds passing into minutes, hidden from sight by a copse of trees turned red and yellow, leaves gently crunching underfoot.

            She pulls back and whispers in his ear, something that makes his cheeks burn and his heart skip, even as she tugs the coat from his shoulders and lays it on the bench beside them. He shivers, from chill or arousal, and goes in for the kill. She delights in the press of his thighs, the grooves of his back; her nails sting as they claw at his shoulders, and he loves her for it, just in that moment. He loves her shudders and her eyes squeezed shut, and the leaves in her hair, and the warmth of her as she envelops him, keeps him from the cold. He loves the rock of her hips and the freckles on her shoulder; he especially loves her tiny body in his arms as he carries her to bed, afterward, asleep and sincerely his own.

-

            In the winter, they rove around each other in their bedroom, big mahogany bed draped in red and gold, porcelain tub with clawed feet in the corner. The wooden floor is cold beneath his feet as he undresses, pulling ivory-woven gloves from his hands, plucking off every ring but his wedding band, a thin gold ring encrusted with diamonds hidden beneath his larger, more regal jewelry. He takes his crown off last, and sets it on a cushion on his bedside table.

            Anna approaches him once he’s clad only in his undershirt and breeches. She’s in her robe, green with a yellow dragon embroidered on the back, and only her robe. Her gaze is full of warmth and, puzzlingly, trepidation, as she sits on their bed beside him. He begins to unravel her braids—two today, long and thin, with that wretched platinum streak hidden. Her hair becomes wavy when loose, and he runs his hands through it, gently tugging when it catches. Instead of leaning into his touch, she curls in on herself, hugging her stomach. He turns her to face him.

            “Anna,” he murmurs. “What’s wrong?”

            She smiles weakly. “Nothing. I just…” She takes a deep breath. She speaks robotically, slowly. “I am with child.”

            He freezes. Slumps, energy leaving him in one sigh. His mind races, flicking between long-repressed memories and those pictures of his brothers, smiling at their own children, loving them as they never loved him. He thinks of Anna, orphaned by the sea and sister taken by the mountains. She leans on him, head on his shoulder, her auburn hair brushing his back. Her tiny, tiny belly pulsing with life, their budding child. Their heir.

            He smiles and allows giddiness to overtake him, veins buzzing and head spinning. He wraps Anna in his arms and holds her tightly, absorbs her nervous chuckle, and then her happy laugh as she holds him back.

            Arendelle has a new future, and it is within his Queen.

-

            In the spring, Anna dances as he watches her from his throne, her belly round as the moon and her breasts swelling, threatening to spill over her bodice. She leaps from partner to partner, laughing all the way, radiant at the first ball of the season. He allows his lips to curve into a gentle smile, eyes on her always, even as visiting dignitaries and the occasional monarch claim his attention.

            “Your wife is very beautiful,” the ambassador of Gaul says, in heavily accented Dutch. “She will make a wonderful mother.” Hans nods slightly, meant to dismiss him, but he continues: “I can tell Your Majesty loves her very much.”

            Hans stiffens. He meets the ambassador’s eyes for the first time, searching for anything of ill-will, any intent to exploit Hans’s supposed love—there’s nothing. Simply enjoyment, a sincere smile on his wrinkled face. His eyes become brighter when Anna approaches the throne, short of breath and heaving.

            “I really need a looser bodice—oh! Hello, I mean, good evening, Ambassador.” Her eyes dart between the ambassador and Hans; her smile is strained. Hans stands, takes her arm, and walks to a secluded corner, hidden behind a marble pillar. Behind them, the Ambassador shrugs and rejoins the crowd.

            “How did you know I needed to talk to you?” Anna whispers, endearingly too loud. He suppresses the tender sigh in his chest.

            “Instinct, my Queen.”

            She laughs and bats him on the arm. “Anyway, uh—” Her expression sours, and she places a hand on her belly. “Um, the—the baby—oh, gosh—”

            His nostrils flare as panic strikes through him and his breath catches—some part of him wonders as the extremity of his reaction, how deeply the idea of the baby, _his_ baby, hurt hits him—

            “Anna, what’s wrong?” He lays a hand over her own, feels the curve of the bump under her dress—something kicks his hand. He frowns and waits, and moments later it kicks again, _the baby kicks_.

            “Oh,” he says.

            “Yeah. I felt him kick for—for the first time, I think, and I just needed to. Let you know. And stuff.” She smiles up at him, and adoration swells in him in strengths heretofore unknown, until he must swoop down and kiss her once, twice, again, her giggles ringing in his ears.

-

            In the summer, they stroll among the garden, trees bursting with birds and flowers, air light with the cries of chicks and ducks, and the gurgling of little Gerda, swaddled with pink and warm in her mother’s arms. She squirms and releases a howl befitting the lungs of a princess, and Anna laughs and lays her in the grass, sitting beside her, running a hand over her smooth head.

            Hans watches them fondly, his blue-eyed girls. Anna pulls Gerda into her lap, grips her little wrist and waves at Hans, cooing in her ear, “Look at Daddy, isn’t he super tall? He’s a giant. A big, redhead giant, like you’ll be someday, if he has his way.” Anna hugs her and wipes some drool from her mouth. “We can’t let that happen, huh? My little princess has to be tiny and bubbly all her life, or I’ll die of grief.”

            “Turning her against me already, huh?” Hans lets a smile creep onto his face and sits beside them. He reaches for Gerda, who stretches her arms toward him and kicks excitedly. Anna carefully hands her to him, and he leans forward and blows on her belly, giddy with her laughter.

            “Oh, I see how it is!” Anna huffs and crosses her arms in feint annoyance, seemingly immune to Hans’s mouth on her neck until he reaches _that_ spot, and she finally turns her head and kisses him, mouth open and curved up.

            He thinks, perhaps, this budding emotion in his chest, this woman giving her life to him, this baby girl who will consume his own life, and heart—perhaps, they’re worth all the vulnerability in the world. Perhaps.

**Author's Note:**

> This story has been inside me for literally weeks and I'm so glad I finally got to put it on paper, even if it took me AGES. Oh, god.
> 
> This is also my first attempt at sexy things! I hope I didn't make anyone cringe.
> 
> It takes place in the same universe as my other Hanna fic, even if that one didn't mention a baby. Whoops.


End file.
